Your Name is Strange
by Holywoodunderfed
Summary: Max and Warren are both complete strangers. They live seperate but ordinary lives. Although, they each wish for something more. One day, seemingly at random, they switch bodies. Now, they must leave notes for each other to make it through. These notes start to form an unbreakable bond. Can they save each other before tragedy strikes?
1. Prologue

**Quick A/N: Hey all, recently I watched the movie Your Name. That movie is absolutely fantastic and I highly recommend it. However, I couldn't help but notice the parallels between the movie and Life is Strange. So naturally, I decided to write a Max/Warren story with the Your Name plot. Spoilers of the movie will obviously happen, but it's not the entire movie plot because obviously I have to change some things to use the LiS cast. Still, I hope you enjoy. I had to make changes to the LiS canon. Those changes will be made obvious in the story.**

 **I hope you enjoy!**

* * *

 **Warren:**

A dark, grey sky encircling him. Debris lifting from the foundation of houses, being ripped away like a child opening a present. A large, massive tornado moving impossibly fast towards him.

* * *

The rush of the air. The grating noise of the train. The feeling of metal under his fingers. A girl, shorter than he with pale skin. Her face a sea of tiny freckles. Her grey blue eyes alight in urgency. Her short brunette hair framing her face. Warren felt himself reach out and catch the bright blue object spiraling through the air.

"My name is Max!"

* * *

Warren woke with a start. Immediately, he opened his eyes to stare at the white painted ceiling above him.

The dream had felt so real, yet, he couldn't for the life of him remember a single detail. Warren wasn't someone to dream often, but when he did, his dreams were vivid and memorable.

He was frustrated. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't remember anything except feeling. He remembers feeling metal underneath him. He remembers feeling material on his fingers. He remembers now hearing a noise. It was this noise that jolted him awake.

Warren grunted in aggravation. He sat up in bed and rubbed his tired eyes. When he opened them, the first thing he saw was the wall in front of him. What was significant about this wall was that it was decorated with dozens of polaroid photos.

Since when did Warren own a polaroid camera? For that matter, when did he take a dozen pictures in his life?

He shifted his position. Now he sat on his knees. Gingerly, his bent to take a closer look at one of the polaroids. The picture on the wall was one of two girls. It was obviously a selfie.

Both of the girls were pretty, but in different ways. The girl on the right was pretty punk rock. She had blue died hair under a grey beanie. She had fair skin and pretty bluish-green eyes.

This punk rock girl was cheek to cheek with the photographer. This girl was more ordinary, but there was absolutely nothing wrong with that. She was paler than the other girl, with short brown hair, an ocean of freckles and bluish-grey eyes. She had a really cute smile.

Warren felt a slight blush creep onto his cheeks. Slowly, he reached out to touch the picture.

Once his fingers made contact, he ripped his hand away. He stared down at his hand, his arm. It was pale. Just like the complexion of the girl in the photo.

 _No way,_ he thought to himself.

He sat back on his booty on the bed. His peripheral vision allowed him to look beyond his hand and down. The blankets had fallen off him during his movement. His brain sluggishly worked out three things:

The sheets he laid under were not his Doctor Who inspired ones.

He did not recognize the clothes he woke up in. He wore a green shirt with baby chicks on it, and black short shorts. His legs were now hairless and impossibly pale.

His chest poked out. In fact, he could swear it looked like he had _breasts._ Sure, they were small, but they were definitely breasts.

Experimentally, he placed one hand over the right organ. He squeezed. He then blushed.

But he continued. He then placed his other hand on the opposite breast and squeezed.

"What the- They feel so… _real."_

He felt a little embarrased, but thankfully no one could see him. This had to be a dream. There was no other way. The only thing wrong was that it felt so real.

Warren was a guy deep down. He never had boobs. He continued to squeeze the breasts.

At the moment, the door burst open.

"Get up, Max Attack! Your breakfast is getting cold."

The exact same blue haired girl from the photograph stood in the door frame. She leaned against the door, her hands in her pockets. She wore a black t-shirt with a white skull design, a dark green overshirt, skinny jeans and boots. On her head was the same beanie from the photograph. The girl cocked an amused eyebrow at Warren.

"Were you just fondling your boobs?"

Warren's cheeks burned a bright crimson red. "Uh…"

The girl laughed. "You're so weird, dude. Hurry up, lazy ass. You slept in for an extra 10 minutes."

This girl looked at Warren with a sense of familiarity. It puzzled him. She was talking to him as if they were best friends or siblings. He swore for the life of him he did not know who this girl was.

"I'll… uh… be right out." This had to be a dream.

"Alrighty," the girl slinked off the door. "Just hurry up. That's a nice breakfast Vanessa made, it would be a shame if something… happened to it."

With a wink, she disappeared, much to Warren's relief.

Something weird was definitely going on. He did not recognize this room. Sure, there were some things that were familiar. He had the same posters that adorned some of the walls, but that was it. It was like the guys at Extreme Home Makeover completely redid his room while he was asleep.

And gave him a blue haired girl.

And made him pale.

And gave him boobs.

Warren took several deep breaths to fight off a panic attack. Once he regained what little composure he had, he got out of bed. Apparently he needed clothes.

He strolled over to the closet tucked in the corner of the room. Just beside the closet, leaning against the wall was a mirror.

Curiously, on the corner of the mirror was a drawing of the Space Needle.

But that wasn't what caught his attention.

In the mirror, his reflection was not Warren. It was a pale girl. The same girl from the photograph.

Warren screamed, and the reflection screamed too.


	2. One

**Max:**

When Max woke up, her body felt tired and sore. She felt as if she ran a marathon.

Which was pretty strange. She didn't do much the day before. Hell, after some studying, she went to bed early.

She sat up, groaning from the stiffness in her joints. She fought a vague wave a nausea successfully.

She peaked at her polaroids taped up neatly on the wall. Neatly, except for one. It somehow became slightly crooked.

She sat on her knees and leaned forward to fix the photograph. The picture was one of her and Chloe from July. They had gone to see one of Chloe's favorite bands. They took the photo outside of the arena, it was one of her favorites. In fact, next to that was a photo of her and Chloe with the bassist. The bassist's long ginger hair reminded her of her hair in her dream.

Ugh, she was not ready for school. Even on a Thursday.

At that moment of laziness, her adopted sister barged in. "Maximillion!"

"Morning Chloe," the brunette replied with a tired smile.

"Do you even set an alarm? C'mon lazy ass, you're late!"

Max rolled her eyes. "Is there time to get a shower?"

"Probably. If you hurry."

"Yeah, I'll do that. Mom make pancakes?"

"Yep, you better hurry."

"I'll be out in a few. Don't eat my pancakes!"

"I won't. Only if you promise not to play with your tits again. That shit was hella awkward to walk in on."

Chloe left the room before Max could ask her what the hell she meant. Needless to say, she was very confused. Maybe Chloe just had a really bizarre dream. She's famous for those.

Nearly ten minutes later, Max stumbled her way out of the shower. Thankfully, washing her hair stopped it from looking like a rat's nest. She wiggled herself into some clothes. A white souvenir t-shirt with an artist's portrayal of the Space Needle, a grey hoodie, unzipped, jeans and grey converse. She finally sat her skinny butt at the table to eat some of her Mom's pancakes. Sure, they weren't Joyce's, but they were still pancakes.

"Sleeping beauty awakes!" her mother exclaims before setting a plate in front of Max. Her stomach growled in anticipation.

She shoved heaping mouthfuls of pancakes into her piehole. She didn't care how messy it looked.

"Someone's hungry," her mother smirked.

"I'd say. Good thing I didn't steal any." Chloe laughed at the thought before stealing the seat beside her.

Max smiled at Chloe. She's come a long way since the accident. Nearly six years ago, Chloe's parents, Joyce and William were involved in a car accident. They were both killed instantly.

Aaron Price was the only other living relative of William. Legally, he was supposed to take custody of Chloe. Luckily, and a little thanks to Chloe's rebellious nature, Ryan and Vanessa were able to convince Aaron to sign over rights to Chloe. Vanessa and Ryan have been her "parents" ever since. Legally, that makes Max and Chloe sisters.

It took a long time for Chloe to heal. Fortunately, it seems she has come out for the better. Although, they all miss Joyce and William.

Max couldn't imagine life without Chloe.

"Max? Maaaaaxxxxx?"

Max blinked several times. She had been spacing out probably a little too much.

"Is something wrong, Max?" Vanessa spoke up. "You seem to be spacing out a lot lately."

"I'm fine, I promise. Where's dad?"

Vanessa and Chloe gave each other a look. The same thought seemed to occur to them because they both nodded.

"Am I missing something?" Max asked, perplexed.

"I told you yesterday that your father is taking extra hours at his job. His shift starts a little earlier. If you actually wake up earlier, lazy bones, then maybe you can see him. Don't you remember me telling you that?"

Max furrowed her eyebrows. "No, I don't."

"Well, gotta go," Chloe declared. She shoved her phone in her pocket and stood suddenly. She grabbed Max's wrist to half carry her out.

"What's the rush?" Max asked, hurridly.

Chloe was practically dragging her out the door. Max barely had time to readjust the shoulder bag holding her trusty camera before stumbling her way outside. Chloe stopped her before she could fall.

Max was able to get a good look at Chloe in the sun. Sure, the morning sun was warm. She didn't think it called for a white tank top, ripped jeans, (like _seriously ripped),_ and boots. No beanie today. Strange.

"Who are you all dressed up for?"

Chloe scoffed. "You think this is dressing up?"

"I can practically see your thighs!"

Chloe rolled her eyes. But, she gave in. "We're walking to school with Rachel, okay?"

Ah, so that was her angle. Chloe has been crushing on Rachel since three years ago when she moved to Seattle. Max was pretty sure the day she arrived was the day Chloe decided she was a lesbian. Chloe had been pining for her ever since.

Not that Max could blame her. If she were into chicks, as Chloe would say, she would definitely crush on Rachel. Who wouldn't?

Chloe and Max were already good friends with Rachel. They didn't hang out all the time, but when they did they had fun. The only thing was, Rachel never walked with them to school. Why would she do that now?

Although, it dawned on her why Chloe decided to be such a smartass in recent years. Maybe to impress Rachel?

"Why?" Max. Asking all the important questions.

Chloe gave her an exasperated look. Max suddenly felt like an idiot, and she wasn't sure why.

"Do you not remember me telling you yesterday she broke up with Frank the other day?"

"Uh, no. You never said that."

Chloe mumbled something under her breath. Max felt embarrassed, but for the life of her, she could not remember anything like what Chloe mentioned. She was sure if something like that happened she would remember.

So, she apparently broke it off with Frank. Frank was okay, in Max's opinion. He was definitely into drugs, and he could have a temper, but he was typically an okay guy. Rachel and Frank had been together for the last few months. Max wondered why they broke it off.

"Since apparently you don't remember, Rachel and Frank mutually broke it off. Before we went home yesterday, we talked to her about walking to school."

Max understood. Chloe would be using this opportunity to get closer to Rachel. The walk to school from the Caulfield house was only about 10 minutes. Rachel lived only a few houses down the block. She's on the way, they wouldn't be pressed for time.

Chloe sped in front of her with her long ass legs. Max had to practically jog to keep up with Chloe. Jeez, hopefully it'll work out the stiffness in her legs.

Chloe suddenly stopped in front of Rachel's house. Max's rush nearly caused her to plow straight into Chloe. Fortunately, she was able to stop just in time.

After taking several breaths, Chloe knocked on Rachel's door. Sure enough, Rachel opened the door to greet them. She dressed in an outfit a little more accustomed to the warm September day. She wore a light blue sleeveless shirt over a black tank top, white jean shorts and even black and pink Chuck Taylor's. Her usual blue earrings hung down. Max chuckled at Chloe staring at the new Chuck Taylor's.

"Hello, ladies," Rachel greeted them politely.

"Get some new kicks?" Chloe asked. Her voice was ever so slightly hoarse.

"Yep! You like 'em?" Max swore Rachel looked at Chloe a beat longer than her.

After both girls admitted they appreciated Rachel's choice in footwear, the girl in question moved past them. "C'mon, slowpokes, before we're late."

Chloe for some inexplicable reason nudged Max on the shoulder before following. Max gave her a questioning look before following her two friends.

They had walked a small distance before Rachel broke the silence. "I'm glad you're not staring at me today, Max."

"What do you mean?"

"I could have sworn every time I looked at you yesterday, you blushed and looked away."

That's weird. Max had no memory of even talking to Rachel the day before. In fact, the last time she remembered seeing Rachel was in her dream. Only, this version of Rachel was much younger. Max quickly dismissed this thought.

"Now that you mention it," Chloe cut in, "I don't remember you taking _any_ photos yesterday."

"Now that," Rachel voiced, "is hella strange."

Max rolled her eyes. It's not like she took photos every second of every day. She wanted to divert the conversation away from her. She decided the best way to do that was to slightly embarrass her sister.

"Jeez, gang up on the photographer. You two would make a great couple the way you join forces."

That did the trick. Chloe looked bashful while Rachel gave Chloe a look Max couldn't recognize. It was almost as if she was considering her.

Before Chloe could retaliate, Max had already climbed two or three steps to their school. "Well, looks like we're here! See you guys later!"

Max retrieved her earphones from inside her pocket and plugged them in her ears. Turning her music on high, she sped to her photography class. Don't want to be late for Mr. Jefferson's class.

* * *

Max was not one of the early students to class. Upon approaching the door to the classroom, Max hesitently removed her ear buds. Immediately, she was greeted by whispers of the other students. Not to mention the jeers from rival student and queen bee, Victoria Chase.

For some reason Max could never figure out, Victoria has always detested Max.

Max tried her best to ignore the bully, but she couldn't help listen to more of her insults towards the way she dresses and her photography style.

Would she ever stop?

Her teacher, Mr. Mark Jefferson, gave her a bemused expression. "Max Caulfield. Glad to see you remember what time this class is."

Max's cheeks brightened from the statement. It didn't help that a majority of the other students snickered, adding to the humiliation. Although, she had absolutely no clue what he was talking about. She didn't know what to say to help whatever she got herself into.

"Have nothing to say?"

He didn't seem angry, or irritated. But still, it seemed like he wanted an answer.

"I'm, uh, sorry, Mr. Jefferson. I'll do better."

"You're lucky you're one of the most brilliant photography students we have here. Like I said, yesterday, I'll let you off with a warning, but don't let it happen again."

"I won't."

She would be more embarrassed if she had an idea what he meant. She quietly slid into her seat beside her table mate, Kate. She took a couple of deep breaths, trying to calm herself down before any anxiety attack could happen.

"You feeling okay, Max?"

That would be Kate. Kate is a very sweet girl, around Max's age. They've been table mates since the beginning of the year. Max really liked Kate, and was thinking about inviting her over to hang out with her sometime.

"I'm okay, Kate," she smiled warmly at the blonde girl. "I'm just confused."

"Hopefully not as much as you were yesterday."

"What do you mean?"

"You don't remember yesterday? You showed up to class a good 15 minutes late. Said you couldn't find the class or your locker. Are you sure you're feeling all right?"

"Yeah," Max felt herself lying. "I, uh, think I hit my head when I fell out of my bed yesterday. I'm totally fine now."

If Kate didn't believe her, she didn't show it. Max wasn't exactly sure why she felt the need to lie, but until she found out why people kept inferring Max added strange the day before, she would continue to lie. Sound confusing? Cause Max is sure confused.

As far as yesterday was concerned, she remembers it being a typical Wednesday. Nothing abormal happened. She doesn't remember being late to any of her classes or hearing any of Chloe's life-shattering news. She remembers getting up for the day, school like usual, then going home and doing some homework. She remembers studying for her Friday Literature test before passing out at around 9:30. She remembers having a really strange dream before waking up this morning. That's it.

The way everyone was acting, Max couldn't help but shake the feeling that she missed a whole day. Which is preposterous. How could she just skip a whole day? Maybe Kate would have the answers…

"Hey, Kate?"

"Hmm?"

"You say I acted different yesterday?"

"Yeah, actually. Not completely different, because you still seemed spacy and you made obscure references, but it was like you forgot everything. And, once you got here, you just sketched and wrote in your notebook the entire time."

Max shot her a curious look but Kate just shrugged. Kate turned to Mr. Jefferson. He started to lecture about Twilight photography. Max listened to him say that twilight is the "magic hour" before she decided to tune him out.

 _If there are drawings and writings in my notebook,_ she thought to herself, _then everyone must be telling the truth. I missed an entire day._

Cautiously, perhaps slightly over-dramatically, she opened her notebook. After flipping several pages, she found what she dreaded. Covering at least 7 pages was unfamiliar writing. Writing that was most definitely not hers. Drawings that she did not illustrate. Chemical formulas she had no knowledge of even existing.

She freaked out. Rapidly turning pages like her life depended on it, she bit her tongue to stifle a shriek from escaping her throat.

She closed her eyes and tried to breathe. Maybe she was having another bizarre dream. Dog, let's hope so.

She slowly turned one more page. It seemed to be the last page this stranger wrote in. The page was devoid of any drawings or equations. It simply bore three words in big bold letters:

"Who are you?"

* * *

Several hours later, Max sat at a table and waited for Chloe and Rachel to bring her lunch. Luckily, they all had period 1 lunch together, and Chloe usually insisted she bring Max lunch. Max just assumed Rachel would be eating with them now that her and Frank were no longer an item.

Max was on her phone. It no longer surprised her that she missed an entire day. When she opened her journal app, she discovered that today was somehow Friday. The only question is, "How?"

She had been trying to figure out how a stranger wrote in her notebook. How could that have happened when Kate says she wrote all of that? It didn't make any sense. Unless…

"Hey guys," Max greeted her friends as they sat at the table. "Can I ask you guys something?"

"Sure." They each slid into the benches across from Max. Chloe handed Max her food. Max couldn't care less about food right now.

"What was I like yesterday?"

Chloe seemed a little taken aback, but after sharing a look with Rachel, Chloe dug in. "You were weird yesterday. It was like you had total amnesia."

"You didn't know who I was or where any of your classes were," Rachel added.

"It was like you were staring at everything too. Like you've never lived in Seattle before. It was hella strange."

"Wowser," Max muttered.

"Yeah," Rachel voiced. "It was like you were in some sort of trance. You also wore that jacket of yours zipped up. I've never seen you do that either."

"Did you hit your head or something yesterday?"

"Yeah," Max lied. "I think yesterday I rolled out of bed."

Chloe smirked. "Was this before or after I walked in on you fondling your boobs?"

Max blushed a deep scarlet before managing to squeak out the word "before".

Rachel and Chloe then continued to talk as if Max wasn't there. Not that Max minded. She had some things to figure out.

According to literally everyone, she missed an entire day. She has no memory of Thursday. Not even a hint. Apparently though, she was in school. She had assignments from yesterday due tomorrow. Kate even told her she was in class and apparently wrote that 'message' in her notebook.

It was like someone took control of her body yesterday. Just like her dream. Instead, in her dream, _she_ was in someone else's body. A _guy's body._

What if-? No, that's crazy. The idea is just absolutely insane!

But it's the only one that makes sense.

What if her dream wasn't a dream? What if she _switched bodies_ with someone else?

* * *

It was late. Max had brought her photography notebook home with her. She flipped through the intruder's notes. The formulas, the drawings, his message.

She couldn't make any sense of it. Did they really switch bodies? If so, why did it happen?

"Who are you?" she whispered.

She took a selfie then. It was the only thing she could think of that could calm the adrenaline coursing through her.

She felt tired now. Winded. Like she hadn't slept in days.

But she had an idea. If her theory was correct, and they switched bodies, they could do it again. This guy needed to know who she was. The last thing she needed was some random guy ruining her life. What was his name again? William? Warrick? Warren?

With a black marker, she wrote on her forearm:

My name is Max Caulfield.

Phone password: 081114

Go to Journal


	3. Two

**Warren:**

Warren woke up the next morning tired and sore. He isn't sure exactly why he's so stiff. Maybe he just slept in an awkward position.

After he woke up, he stretched. That worked out some of the kinks. He quickly showered and dressed into a blue shirt over a red long sleeved undershirt, jeans and shoes and made his way into the tiny kitchen. On the fridge, Warren spotted a note magneted in place.

He cocked an eyebrow and read the tiny note.

 _Warren,_

 _I'm going to work early today for a meeting. I made you breakfast already. Have a good day._

 _Love, Dad._

Warren allowed himself a wry smile and eat the "breakfast" his dad left him. I.e.: a Fruit Loops box, and a cereal bowl. Warren ate his bowl and texted his friends to meet him at the street corner.

Within a minute, he had grabbed his backpack and waltzed his way out of the apartment. After he locked the door, he raced out to meet his friends at the corner.

"Hey guys," he greeted them.

"Hey," Daniel returned the greeting. Daniel was just around the same age as him but that was the end of their similarites. Daniel was more on the chubby side while Warren was more on the skinny side. Daniel also wore glasses on his head while Warren did not. Daniel wore a grey t shirt under a red unzipped hoodie, jeans and black shoes. He had been friends with Warren for as long as the boy could remember. They shared a common interest in movies, comics and all the fun nerd stuff.

"Hey, yourself," Alyssa also shared a greeting with Warren. Alyssa was a much more recent friend, only moving to Arcadia Bay just a few years ago. She quickly found friends in both Daniel in Warren due to their genuine friendliness and shared interests. Alyssa was also a little on the chubbier side, but she wore it well. She had pale skin and a warm smile towards the two boys. The smile reached her hazel eyes. Her dyed purple hair shone, even in the dull, cloudy morning light.

The trio started walking to Blackwell Acadamy. Warren wished once again that the dorms didn't burn down a year or so ago. Not that he wasn't okay living with his dad, but he practically lived alone anyway. Might as well live alone in his own space.

"So," Alyssa broke him out of his thoughts, "are you going to remember where your classes are?"

 _What does that mean?_ Warren thought. He then furrowed his eyebrows. That didn't make sense. He _always_ made sure to know where his classes were.

"At least you're not taking as many pictures as yesterday. I swore you stopped every second to take a new photo on your phone. I'm surprised you didn't run out of memory," Daniel remarked.

"No way." Warren shook his head. They had to be messing with him. "You guys know I hardly use my camera for anything except for science."

"Don't believe us?" Alyssa smirked. "Check your camera roll."

They were acting ridiculous. Surely, they were just making some weird sort of joke right?

Warren opened his photo album. Sure enough, there were dozens upon dozens of photos that were all taken yesterday. Nature shots of abundent rabbits and squirrels, architecture he'd passed by numerous times, the hideous statue on Blackwell Commons, even a couple selfies. There were photos here that he never took. All of them were dated yesterday too, but Warren didn't remember taking photos the day before. Hell, he wasn't even in school the day before.

Alyssa and Daniel laughed at Warren's incredulity. "This doesn't make any sense," Warren thought out loud.

"It's not as bizarre as the way you acted yesterday," Alyssa remarked.

"Yeah, you were acting really effeminate yesterday."

"Well," Alyssa teased, "more than usual anyway. It was kinda cute, actually."

"Anyway," Daniel cut in, "want to go to the café again after school?"

 _Again?_ Warren thought. "No, thanks. I have work today."

Daniel and Alyssa laughed. "What's so funny?" Warren demanded.

"Are you sure you don't need us to tell you where you work again?" Alyssa mocked.

Daniel sounded more sympathetic. "You completely forgot you were had a job. We went to the cafe then you got a text from your boss."

Damnit. Brooke was probably pissed at him for missing yesterday. It was the only time he was ever late, so hopefully she'll let it slide?

Warren sighed. It seems he really _did_ miss Monday. "We went to the café yesterday?"

"Yeah," Alyssa nodded.

"How much?"

Daniel and Alyssa shared a look. A sense of dread filled Warren.

"Like," Alyssa was daring enough to spill, "35 dollars?"

Fury filled Warren's veins. Why would someone spend _so much_ at the café? Warren's money too! Do they not realize how little he earns an hour?

Mercifully, it seemed that Alyssa and Daniel wanted to shift the conversation elsewhere. Warren was all too grateful for this.

Warren nodded and listened to be polite, but he was too focused on the photos he apparently took yesterday. He acted different, forgot where his classes were, and took a bunch of photos and to top it off, spent a shit ton of his money?

It reminded him of something. Something that felt like a memory, but kept fading like a dream everytime he tried to remember it.

He scrolled through the photos again. The first selfie stopped him in his tracks. He looked confused, a look he was not accustomed to making. Not only that, but the name of the picture threw him off.

 _What is your name?_

* * *

After school, Warren raced home to get changed into his uniform. If his suspicions were correct and he did miss a day, he could hardly afford to be late again. Say goodbye to job security at that point.

Warren sighed. Being an adult was difficult. Even if he wasn't even out of high school yet.

He hurried to arrive to his shift on time at the Memoiré. He tried not to get sidetracked by the confusion of the day. He remembered this dream he had the night before where he woke up in someone's body. A girl's body. Could it be possible they switched bodies?

What was the girl's name anyway? He had a feeling it was an unusual name for a girl, but not an unusual name altogether. What was it? What was her name?

Nevermind. He had more important things to take care of. He opened the back door of the Memoiré.

"Oh, look," Logan called to the four other male employees, "there's Warren."

"So," Zachary chipped in, "what happened with you and Brooke last night?"

"N-nothing happened. I pro-" Warren tried to defend himself before he was cut off by the sound of the door opening and closing.

"Why's everyone standing around?" Brooke demanded authoritatively. "Get back to work guys."

The other boys grumbled but resumed with their work. Warren was unsure what to do. What were they talking about?

"Hey Warren, you might as well clock in," Brooke winked at him.

Warren felt his face heat up with embarrassment. If the body switching theory were true, then that girl not only spent his money, but she apparently also flirted with Brooke?!

He felt outraged and appalled. Even a little sick. Why would this happen to him now, of all times?

He should send a message to her. But how? He doesn't even remember who she is, let alone remember her name.

But… maybe… he had an idea. He had to wait until work to test it, but he had an idea nonetheless.

* * *

Late that night, after he got off work, Warren went home. Then, he went to work. On his left forearm, he wrote his name, just a precaution in case she didn't remember his name.

Next, he wrote on his right forearm, _We need to talk._ The next message, still on that forearm directed her to his notebook, where he took all his notes. If they continued to switch bodies, he had to lay down ground rules.


	4. Three

**Max:**

Max woke up abruptly to the chirp of an annoyingly shrill alarm. Max groaned. She never set an alarm. Maybe Chloe or something pranked her.

She reached out with her hand to grab her phone on the nightstand. Maybe she set the alarm on it.

Gravity didn't seem to like her plan. She felt herself be pulled down off the bed. She let out a high pitched grunt as she felt her body smack the floor.

Max rolled over to her side and winced in pain. She had fallen right on her chest.

She opened her eyes. "Carpet?" she whispered in confusion.

Did she stay the night somewhere? On a school day?

"Fuck," she whispered. "School. Ugh."

She sat up. The blanket she wore was now annoyingly wrapped around her legs. She had to have have spent the night somewhere.

If she did spend the night somewhere, then where? Chloe would have come with her too, but she isn't here either.

She finally untangled her legs from the hot blanket. Immediately she was mortified by the _hair._

"Oh my Dog!"

Max stared in shock at her legs. Light tussels of brown hair descended down. Her skin too was different. It was not the pale atrocity she was used to. Her skin was more fair now. Like she actually got a decent tan.

Max was freaking out. She grabbed her chest.

It was flat, more than usual. But this was flat flat. Tennis court flat. Like a guy flat.

There was only one way to find out. She looked down at her groin. Slowly, she lowered a hand.

 _Please. No._

Max squeezed her eyes shut.

 _Yep,_ she felt her face flush from sheer embarrassment. _That's a penis._

She shivered in disgust. Not that she was _against_ peni, but she never thought she would have one.

Is this a dream? It had to be a dream

 _Knock knock knock!_

"Warren! Get up!"

Max jumped and let out a horribly feminine squeak. Who's Warren? Is that the guy's body she's in?

She heard a sigh from outside the door. "You were supposed to make breakfast this morning, but I'll let it slide because you were studying all night. I have to go to work."

"Uh, have a good day!" she shouted at the door. At least her voice wasn't _too_ manly. If she _is a_ dude. It was definitely boyish, but just enough to make it less freaky than it was.

"You too. Don't be late for school!"

"School?" she muttered.

She stood and waddled awkwardly to the unfamiar window beside her bed. Looking out, she gasped.

She did not see Seattle. She saw what looks like a small town.

"Wowser," she whispered. Who knew her imagination was so vivid.

Max jumped when she heard a phone go off beside the bed. Carefully, she grabbed the phone.

"Alyssa?" she muttered.

She wasn't going to answer the call, but her curiosity got the better of her. She pressed her finger to the "answer" option.

"Hello?"

"Hey sleepyhead. Hurry up and come outside. We'll walk to Blackhell together."

"Uh, yeah, okay."

"I can tell you barely slept," she chuckled. "Hurry up!"

Max hung up and sighed. Guess she better hurry. She walked over to the closet and stopped.

"Oh no…" she whispers. "I have to pee."

* * *

To say Max was confused throughout the rest of the morning is an understatement. She had to keep reminding herself that she was a boy. Somehow, she had to make it through this bizarre dream. Apparently, this one chubby girl and chubby guy were her friends. They were pretty nice, even though they assumed she knew where she was going.

Why was everyone calling her Warren?

Oh well, this dream had one positive thing about it: it looked like she were in a small town. It wasn't that Max disliked Seattle. It was a hubub of artistic expression and coffee after all. But Max always desired to live in a small town. There was a certain charm in it. Plus, there were plenty more animals to take photographs of.

After a selfie, the girl, Alyssa, asked if she wanted to go to a café. Max had found a wallet in her pocket. There was a card she found. If this were a dream she would be okay to spend money right?

"Sure that sounds amazeballs," she smiled.

Alyssa raised an eyebrow but she didn't say anything.

A block later, the trio stumbled upon a large stone school. The campus surrounding it looked like it suited a college rather than a high school. This Warren guy(?) was in high school right?

The rest of the dream passed by in waves of confusion. She had to ask Daniel repeatedly where her classes were, she ran into unrecognizable people who apparently knew this "Warren" person. She learned about the astronomical events of Twilight Hour. She also learned that apparently she was in a town called Arcadia Bay, and that a festival was taking place in just one month.

Max was interested in this festival, but hopefully she wouldn't make it. Right? She wasn't staying in this "Warren's" body forever right?

After an eternity, it seemed like school officially ended. Her "friends" rejoined her and led her back to a café. She spent the next several minutes eating delicious food and listening to Alyssa and Daniel talk. It was great. She still felt guilty spending so much money. Her friends gave her strange looks, but she ignored them.

Suddenly, the phone in her pocket went off. Max jumped and painfully hit her knees on the table before pulling out the phone.

"I'm late for work?" she muttered.

"Oh shit! You're late?"

Her "friends" were more stressed than she was about this. She didn't remember getting a job. Then again, she also doesn't remember being in a guy's body either. What the hell is going on?

"Um," she muttered. "Where exactly do I work?"

* * *

It had taken forever, but she finally managed to find "Warren's" apartment, get changed, and go to this restraunt that Daniel and Alyssa swore she worked.

Max stared in disbelief at the uniform before she put it on. Apparently in this dream, she worked as a _waiter._

 _Jeez,_ she thinks, _this is one crazy dream. Hella long too._

She bites her lip. It _had_ to be a dream, right? Yet it all felt so real. Every touch, every sight and every smell just felt so real. Her brain must be working overdrive to deal with all of this.

Still, a part of her enjoyed being away from Seattle. She enjoyed the small town and actually liked some of the people here. She just wasn't sure why everyone was calling her "Warren".

When she finally arrived at the French restraunt, she got shit from the manager. Max thought the manager was a little mean, but she supposed she would be angry too if an employee of hers was almost a half an hour late to their job.

Max struggled throughout the night. Who knew waitressing was so _hard._ She messed up on orders, some of the customers were rude, and she couldn't remember what table had what.

To her relief, her manager didn't chew her out. Instead, she just quietly asked her to do better and to focus. That helped, but Max continued to be flustered throughout the night. It didn't help when a customer tried to scam the restraunt into giving them free food. She will forever be grateful to Brooke, her tireless manager, for taking that one. Even if it is a dream.

After what seemed like eternity, the last of the customers had gone. She was directed to sweep the floor. Finally, a task she could do without running the risk of angering or disappointing someone. At least hopefully.

"You didn't too bad tonight," Brooke said simply. Max could tell she was just being kind. She appreciated it all the same. "But still, I expect better from you tomorrow, alright Warren?"

"Yes, ma'am," she nodded. After all Brooke had done for her tonight, it was the least she could do to be polite.

Brooke raised an eyebrow. "You seem much more polite today. Are you on some sort of new medication today or something?" she joked.

"Uh, no. You've just been… really helpful."

"It's no problem," she shrugged. "Some guys can be real assholes. Ever run into one of them just grab me. You made the right call."

"Thanks," she smiled. She was so tired. She went back to quietly sweeping.

"Son of a bitch!" Brooke complained loudly.

Max turned on her heel. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," Brooke sighed. "It's just my apron." Brooke turned to face Max. Indeed, her apron had been torn in a sizable way.

"It sucks. I'm going to have to order a new one. Which means more money out of my paycheck, plus it'll take a week to get here."

Oh, this was a chance. This was an opportunity to pay Brooke back for being so good to her tonight. "I can fix that."

"You can?" Brooke narrowed her eyes curiously.

"Yeah, come with me."

"Okay?" Brooke hesitated, but she relented when Max gently took the girl by the wrist and led her to the office.

"Do you have a needle and some thread?" she asked the manager.

Recognition flashed in Brooke's eyes. "I think there's a needle in the drawer right there, and there might be an old spool somewhere. Luckily, ( **Author's Note: I'm lazy.)** there was indeed a spool and needle in the drawer in the desk. Max went to work. She was slowed down slightly by her now longer fingers, but after a few minutes, she had Brooke's apron repaired, and even added a little butterfly to the end of the seam.

"Wow, Warren. Where did you learn how to do this?" Brooke examined her work with a small smile.

"My mom. She's kind of a freak with this stuff."

Brooke hopped off the table she was sitting on. She undid her ponytail and let her hair fall down her shoulders. Max couldn't help but admire it. She wished her hair looked _that_ good.

"I have to say Warren, I'm surprised. I never thought you had such a feminine side. I have to say I like that."

Max smiled while standing up. "Thank you. Anytime you need help you can call me."

Brooke nodded and matched Max's grin. "I might need some help shopping. We can see just how in touch you are with that feminine side then."

"I'm not the best at shopping," Max admitted, "but I can try."

"Awesome. I'll text you when. Go ahead and clock out. I'll see you tomorrow, Warren."

Max was never more happy to go to a stranger's home. The second she went home, she stripped off the work uniform, and pulled on the same clothes she was wearing in the morning (whilst avoiding looking at her… member…). The second her head hit the pillow, she fell asleep.


End file.
